Waiting Game
by magically-muddled
Summary: Ruby's excitement about the rodeo was infectious… So were the cowboys (Captain Swan AU)


"Well, this is... impressive" Emma surveyed the large paddock, a gated circle in the centre marking the arena for the evening. Large metallic stands cast long shadows across the sand, unceremoniously dumped for the evenings proceedings, the floodlights casting a bright glow across the pit, extending beyond to the peaceful meadow. Off to the side, a small gated area led off to various trailers and trucks. ("That's where the riders get ready" Ruby had nodded, showing off the infinite knowledge Google had given her on the sport).

It looked like an entire State had invaded, not just the Rodeo. Rows upon rows of pick-up trucks were as far as the eye could see, the buzz and hum of the visitors and the locals mixing excitedly. There were mouth watering aromas of fried foods, mingled with the_ less_ mouth watering aromas of manure and sweat, the sweetness of the hay cutting across both.

"Shut your mouth, Swan" Ruby muttered good naturedly, bouncing up and down on her heels, "I think it's amazing".

Well, _obviously_. It was Emma had heard for the past two weeks. Not specifically the bull riding aspect, more the cowboy aspect. Cowboys. Hundreds of them. Hundreds of cowboys. Literally hundreds of real life cowboys, Emma. Hundreds.

To say Ruby was excited was an understatement. She'd planned her outfit for weeks, taking much inspiration from Daisy Duke - with a hint of her own natural flair, obviously. She wore her long brown hair in low bunches, a ruby red plaid shirt tied just above her waist, displaying a generous portion of flat stomach. Her cut off shorts were so tiny and tight, Emma wouldn't be surprised if she'd painted them on. A cute pair of white cowboy boots completed the cowgirl air, fresh and squeaky clean out the box.

"No hat?" Emma had teased when she saw her roomate that morning.

"I'll just need to get a charming young rider to help me out" Ruby fluttered her lashes as she painted on her crimson lipstick, "I imagine they'll be obliging"

"I'm sure they will" Emma had laughed, preparing herself for the final assault. She had been saying "No" ever since Ruby had heard about the competition rolling into town, but her roomate was determined. Her persuasive skills were legendary, and somehow Emma was mingling with the cowboys, so she was confident Ruby would acquire more than one hat this evening.

It really wasn't Emma's thing. Hell, it wasn't Ruby's thing either. They were both in their senior year at college, and funnily enough cowboys and bucking bulls hadn't been high on their agenda - cramming assignments, drinking and partying with their sorority sisters were battling pole position. Sadly, dick head frat boys had made an appearance, but apparently a day at the Rodeo would cure all of Emma's boy woes.

She'd been persuaded, but the blonde wouldn't falter on certain aspects, though. The matching pair of cowgirl boots remained in their room, Emma's biker boots firmly on her feet. She'd also resisted Ruby attempts to customise her skinny jeans into a matching pair of shorts. Ruby's disappointment had been nothing compared to look of pure horror as Emma shrugged on her trusty leather jacket. It was a warm summers day, but Emma was determined not to look like a cowboy hunter.

After much arguing (and even a threat to beat her senseless with a cowboy boot) Emma had slipped Ruby's other rejected wardrobe option - an unbuttoned, blue and green fitted plaid shirt - over her white lacy camisole.

The entire debacle had made them over forty minutes late, but David didn't seem to notice as he practically skipped over to them, "Isn't it amazing? Look at all the people! We've been over to see the bulls and they are huge. Massive" David's excitement over the event was far different to Ruby's motivation, but they both wandered off, excitedly gabbling to each other.

Emma turned to his abandoned girlfriend, and fellow sorority sister, Mary Margaret. She'd got into the spirit of things, wearing cute summer dress with a tiny horse pattern, and one of David's numerous plaid shirts over the top, "Are you as excited as your boyfriend by the thought of cowboys? And you do know it's bull riding, yeah?" She plucked at her friends dress, tongue poking out in mischief.

"Funnily enough I don't have a bull dress" Mary Margaret linked her arm through Emma's as they slowly wandered towards the arena, "And I am seriously worried he's going to leave me for a cowboy. They are just "so manly", apparently"

Emma snorted with laughter, as they fell into comfortable silence. Well, relatively comfortable. She couldn't help but cast a nervous glance around the crowd, looking for Walsh. She had told herself that they would both be mature about him being a first-rate cheating douche, yet he was acting like a lovesick fool. Texts, flowers, soppy messages, randomly popping up at events… She'd told him in no uncertain terms to stop, but he acted as though her threats were some sort of backward mating call. She _hated_ how nervous it made her, the fear of seeing him causing her to withdraw. It was so not Emma Swan, but she couldn't stop herself. As though sensing her worry, Mary-Margaret squeezed her arm reassuringly, and Emma once again marvelled at how perceptive her friend was. They finally reached the seating, spotting Ruby instantly. Mainly because she was stood on top of their seats, waving her arms as if she was trying to flag down a passing helicopter.

"Front row seats" David grinned, spreading his arms, "So we're closer to the action"

"I see that" Mary Margaret smiled, patting his forearm absent mindedly, as though a mother would a child.

Settling at best they could onto the hard metal benches, it wasn't long before the "action" began. Emma wasn't really one for sports, nor for animals performing, but there wasn't something entirely different about it. She could admit she too had a quick Google, checking the animals were cared for and the rules. The primary objective was to ride the bull for eight seconds. It was odd to say, but there was something beautiful about the way an animal that could only be described as_ lumbering_ or _gigantic_ rose through the air. The motions were fluid as it bucked and turned, it's rippling muscles moving with the force of a steam train. As for the crazy young men riding them... There was something to be admired about them. The fearless way they threw their bodies into the sport, attempting to meld with the beasts. They were somehow well matched - the men were wiry, yet seemed to have their own unique strength against the tonnes of pure muscle.

Each eight seconds felt like a lifetime, yet Emma found herself exhilerated and exhausted at the same time. There was the joy of successful riders, the panic for those who were bucked off, coupled with a perverse happiness for the bull that had achieved it's aim.

"Check out the hottie in the chute" Ruby squealed, clapping excitedly. She and David had long since abandoned their seats, caught up in the general hysteria.

Granted, she has said this about the past six riders, but Emma and Mary Margaret once again strained in their seats to see the source of her lust. It seemed he was a popular rider, as the majority of the audience had the same idea. They both joined the pair at the rails, eyes focussed on the preparatory area.

The bull was jet black, straining and twisting as though he was itching to begin. His rider sat astride him, shifting this way and that to find the perfect position. He wore a dark blue shirt and black protective vest - a seven stiched on the breast - dark chaps, with a matching black, dusty cowboy hat. The crowd let out an almighty roar as his name was announced - something Jones she thought - and he glanced up.

Every other rider had that cute, Southern clean cut look going for them. This cowboy had dark stubble peppering a strong jaw, unruly dark hair peeking out from under his hat. _Hottie_ was an inadequate term to decribe the bullrider... rugged just about summed him up. Or God-like. He scanned the crowd quickly, his eyes locking with Emma's. She'd honestly never seen eyes so blue, bright and beautiful before.

It was probably her imagination, but she swore he ran his tongue across his lower lip in a way which could only be described as sinful. That, combined with the _certain_ motion of him rocking along with the bull had a flush creeping up her neck. She had been watching all the riders with interest, but now it seemed crucial to watch every moment of his ride.

The gate flew open and the bull burst forward, jumping and twisting. The cowboy held on, his left hand held at his side, curving into a hook. The bull bucked, using its front legs as support as its back legs kicked out. The cowboy calmly rose with the motion, his gloved hand holding tight to the suicide wrap. Sensing this tactic was proving to be unsuccessful, the animal jumped, all four legs leaving the sand. Emma watched as the cowboys muscles in his forearm tensed, his grip on the wrap that tethered him remaining firm. She knew nothing about bull riding, but it almost appeared like he had control of the animal. As the timer buzzed along to six seconds, the bull swung sharply to the left and the riders baby blue's widened in surprise.

The panic felt like a short sharp shock as she instinctively reached out, gripping Mary Margaret's wrist. Her heart seemed to stop beating as the rider shifted his weight into the bull, and as the claxon sounded he was still in place.

Feeling Mary Margaret's curious gaze, Emma quickly dropped her wrist, casually toying with a blonde curl in a pitiful attempt at non-chalance. The rider dropped his hold, launching himself down on all fours. The bull seemed content now it's rider had gone, hopping over to the open gate, allowing the cowboy an opportunity to lap up the applause. He took an exaggerated, low bow before removing his hat and tousling the thick, damp strands.

Ignoring the hammering of her heart, and the distinct flutter or butterflies (_seriously?_) Emma clapped alongside a riotous Ruby and David.

She couldn't help but notice that the cowboy repeated his earlier trick, tongue running along his lower lip as he pulled at his ear.

He wasn't looking at her during the entire celebration.

Definitely not.

No.

_Shit._

_….._

Hello!

This little plot bunny/thing came to me when I was reading _The Longest Ride_. Now, I'm not going to lie, I know nothing about bull riding. I didn't really know it existed until last weekend! So my knowledge is purely Google, the book and a bit of youtube. So my rodeo chat is probably way off base, so lets just gloss over that :)

As ever, comments/advice/bull riding fact checking are always welcome,

Thanks for reading! x


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